


Father of the Year

by zorilleerrant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:18:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorilleerrant/pseuds/zorilleerrant





	Father of the Year

Draco frowned into the glass of firewhisky he’d been nursing. “And he still treats me like a child. I’ve no idea what to do.”

Blaise sipped his butterbeer. “As I see it, you have two choices. Gain his respect –”

The blond rolled his eyes at his friend. “I’ve already told you, I’ve practically doubled our income. I’ve made business contacts my father never could have. I’ve secured artifacts –”

“-or make him hate you.” Blaise grinned.

Draco carefully put down his glass, and stared at the other boy. “What?”

“You want to force him to think of you as an adult, right?” Blaise shrugged. “Do something he won’t be able to see as childish rebellion. Something inherently, I don’t know, not innocent?”

“Merlin, Morgana, and Salazar,” Draco said.

“Thought of something?” The dark haired boy smirked.

“I’m going to come out to my dad!” Draco bounced up, dashing out the door.

A very stunned Blaise barely called out, “good luck” before his friend disappeared.

 

“Father,” Draco said, apparating straight into his father’s study, where he just happened to be having a casual meeting with some business associates. “I’m gay.”

His father’s eyes had narrowed slightly when he’d appeared, and the elder Malfoy was about to warn his son not to intrude on meetings. Or possibly, more generally, not to be so gauche as to apparate into someone else’s study.

At the proclamation, though, Lucius had bounded up, grabbed his son roughly by the arm, and dragged the boy to his parlor.

“Draco,” he told his son, “that is not the sort of thing you barge into meetings to say.”

“Well, it’s true, though. I’m gay.” Draco hid a smirk.

Lucius closed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” the younger blond said, not able to mask all of his anger.

“And you want people to know?” Lucius brought a hand to his forehead.

“Obviously, yes,” his son responded, trying to mask his anger less, this time.

The elder Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do understand what this could mean?”

“Yes, Father.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I do understand that most people are not okay with that, and I may soon be a social pariah.”

“People will talk about you,” Lucius warned.

“Yes.” Draco inclined his head.

“They may get violent,” he added.

“I’ve been practicing dueling,” Draco countered.

“Okay,” said the older blond, “okay.”

Then he stepped up to his son, wrapping the younger wizard in a tight hug, and pressing a small kiss to the top of his head. Draco just barely didn’t let out a strangled yelp.

“I’m proud of you, Draco,” Lucius muttered. “I’m glad that you want to be true to this part of yourself, and it’s about time something was done. I love you, you know that, right?”

Then, before Draco could respond, his father had pulled him by the hand back into the library, where the businessmen waited patiently.

“What was that all about, then?” one of them asked.

“My son is gay,” Lucius told him. “He thought it was important that I know.”

Both of the other men huffed and fumed, finally leaving without concluding their deal.

“I’m sorry about that,” Lucius said, sitting heavily. “I’m afraid progress may be slow.”

 

Draco sat in a dark, empty corner of the bar, under several glamours and a variety of repelling spells. Gritting his teeth, he shook the Prophet again, as if he could make the tiny people in the image, or at least his father, stop beaming and shaking hands. He smacked it down with a growl as Blaise, used to his hiding in the corner, slid in next to him.

Blaise smiled. “What, isn’t that the outcome we were hoping for?”

“Yes, yes,” Draco said, “great for the fucking pillow-biters that they can all get married now and it’s a special bloody fucking crime to attack them.”

The other Slytherin choked on his drink. “Something wrong, Draco?”

“I didn’t upset my father!” Draco yelled.

“Well, no,” Blaise said, “but at least this is out in the open. And he reacted well, and now you don’t have to worry about it.”

The blond slammed his drink down so hard it sloshed all over his newspaper. “Right, only now all of fucking Britain thinks I’m gay!”

“Wasn’t that the point?” Blaise asked. Then, quieter, “aren’t you?”

“No, Blaise, you fucking pouf.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” said Blaise, frowning.

“What’s the matter?” Draco scoffed, “sad that I’m not? Didn’t think anyone else could give you a decent rogering?”

“Pretty much,” said Blaise. “I thought we were flirting.”

The blond’s eyes snapped to his friend.

The raven raised an eyebrow.

“Well, at least you can get married now,” Draco said. “Fucking nancy.”

 

“Why?” Draco asked, storming into his father’s study again.

Lucius looked up. “I’m sorry?”

“This, all this,” Draco waved a hand at the scattered letters his father was drafting. “Why are you doing all of this?”

“Don’t you want me to?” The elder Malfoy frowned.

“I thought you’d be upset!” Draco was careful not to whine.

Lucius walked over and put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. “Draco, I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but when you were born, I made you a promise. I was going to give you everything that you wanted, everything that my father refused to give to me.”

Draco opened his mouth to retort, and then his eyes widened in realization.

The older blond coughed. “You did realize you’re an only child, Draco?”

Draco let out half a sputter, half a yelp.

“Is this –” Lucius sighed. “Draco, were you trying to make me angry?”

Draco stared blankly at the wall.

“What is this about?” The head of the family frowned. “Have I done something to upset you?”

Draco remained silent.

Lucius pressed his lips together. “Draco, if you don’t talk to me, I won’t know what’s wrong, and I won’t know what I can do to fix it.”

The boy just shook his head.

“Look, how about this. I’ll clear my schedule tomorrow, and we’ll go play quidditch, just the two of us, unless you want to scramble a team,” his father offered.

Draco half smiled and nodded, still working on autopilot.

His father’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

The younger Malfoy was halfway down the stairs, humming to himself, when he realized what had just happened. With a scream of frustration, he lit the banister on fire.

 

“Draco?” came a voice.

Draco stiffened. This had been happening more and more lately. His name was everywhere. It came with admirers and columnists, and people who wished him harm in every form. Also, quite a few flirtations or outright offers, and he was flattered, if uninterested.

Still, he was a Malfoy, and he would uphold that name. He turned around, calmly, letting his robes sweep around him, showing off the lining of emerald silk, and offered a polite smile.

Harry bloody fucking Potter was staring back at him, trying to smile himself.

And he had just called Draco by his given name. Well. Rules of conduct aside, he was not calling someone Lord Potter who had just been so presumptuous with him.

“Harry,” he said, his tone friendly with just a hint of ice.

They were schoolmates. It couldn’t be all that impolite.

The green-eyed man blinked behind glasses still slightly too large for his face. “I wanted to thank you,” he said.

The Slytherin frowned, confused. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s just, what you’re doing, what you’ve got your dad doing, that’s great.” The savior of all wizardkind took a breath. “And I know some people think it’s evil, and they think your dad’s evil, and then they think it all goes hand in hand and it all makes sense together, but I know it’s not like that, and he really is trying to help, and I know I should do something, but….”

Draco smiled, even more politely.

“I think you’re very brave,” said the Gryffindor. “I wish I could be that brave.”

Harry Potter glanced quickly from side to side, and the Slytherin’s hand tightened on his wand.

And then the nancyboy-who-lived gave Draco sodding Malfoy a hug.


End file.
